Chuck Versus Enough
by Steampunk.Chuckster
Summary: A missing scene that takes place after Chuck leaves Jill manacled to the Nerd Herder's steering wheel in Versus the Gravitron. Chuck and Sarah have a talk in the Buy More warehouse. Season 2. Canon.


**A/N:** This is just something I wrote up this morning because I was binge watching season 2 of Chuck.

Takes place in Chuck Versus the Gravitron-between Chuck leaving Jill in the Nerd Herder and Chuck and Sarah's sweet heart to heart by the fountain when they arrive for Bartowski Thanksgiving at the end of the episode. Canon.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own CHUCK. I do not profit from these stories.

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He shut his eyes and listened to the soft buzzing of the fluorescent lights above him. The rest of the Buy More warehouse was silent. It was a slow day for business and Big Mike had let a few employees go home early because they weren't needed. Which meant it was empty back here.

And that was exactly what Chuck needed.

A little peace and quiet. Solitude.

He didn't want to be around people right now. He was tired of Casey, tired of imagining the looks the NSA agent was going to be giving him, like he wasn't surprised Chuck screwed up. Like he thought Chuck was an idiot.

He knew he was an idiot, he knew he was gullible and too trusting and foolish and rash. He didn't need the constant reminder.

And he didn't want to have to look Sarah in the face right now, either. Not after all of this.

Chuck drummed his fingers against the large crate he sat on, dangling his legs a few feet above the floor and unconsciously thumping the backs of his heels against the wood.

He turned his phone off after walking away from the Nerd Herder where he'd manacled Jill to the steering wheel.

They would find him eventually. But for now, he just needed this silence. Casey and Sarah would probably be mad when they found they couldn't reach him. But oh well. He'd deal with that later.

Their first priority would be getting Jill out of the car, into the back of some black NSA vehicle with wickedly tinted windows, eventually locking her in a deep, dark cell. She deserved it after everything she'd done. He'd been played like a fiddle. He'd let her in again, and she slashed her way out of him. The scars left from the first time were wounds once more.

This time was different, though.

In spite of how easily she'd gotten back under his skin, she hadn't burrowed as deep as before. She hadn't burrowed very deep at all. Because there was already someone else there, wedged into that place that Jill was trying her damnedest to get to. And that someone else had been why Jill's pleas had only made him feel angrier. Her betrayal of him, he might forgive someday. Maybe he would've even let her go—even though he'd never leave with her—but he saw the way she pointed her gun at Sarah in the hallway.

He knew what murder looked like now. He knew the look in someone's eyes when they were about to kill another person. He'd seen the flash of darkness in Jill's profile, the tightness in her jaw, the way her finger curled around the trigger. If he'd been a second later, Sarah would've gotten a bullet in her back.

He knew it.

Chuck clenched his jaw now and shut his eyes tightly, letting his chin fall to his chest. There was no way in hell he was letting Jill off when she was so obviously prepared to kill Sarah.

The restraint his CIA handler had already shown with Jill was more than what the traitor deserved. And it was also everything Chuck had needed to trick Jill into the car, to trick her into custody. Sarah hadn't hurt Jill because of him, when it would've been fully in her power and jurisdiction to do so. Beckman wouldn't have cared if Jill showed up battered and bruised, as long as she could still talk. Chuck knew Sarah hadn't done it because he asked her. He didn't entirely get why she'd listened, but he had something of an inkling.

The connection between him and the CIA agent—between him and Sarah Walker—wasn't entirely one sided. He wasn't blind. Nor was he quite _so_ modest as to automatically assume she would never care about him—at least a little. Enough to do the things she'd already done for him, when the government wasn't watching. The comforting touches, the way she let him into her hotel room day or night when he needed to talk, when he was bursting at the seams, when keeping this secret from Ellie was too much for him to handle.

He knew Sarah cared.

He'd known right from the start that she wasn't the heartless, emotionless agent he knew _she_ thought she was. Nor was she the person who stood in front of the screen in Castle while Beckman and Graham—before the CIA director been killed—gave her orders, or praised her for her work. There was so much humanity in her that he felt it radiating from her sometimes.

But he knew he could never tell her that. She'd tuck herself back behind the walls she erected around her more often than not. And he'd never see that smile again, or hear her laugh, unless she was acting for the cover in front of his family and friends.

Sarah's actions today had meant so much to him.

Not because it meant Jill was safe. Of course he still wanted his ex-girlfriend in one piece—even after everything.

It was because she swept her anger aside for him. She swept a lot aside for him. Even after he'd betrayed her and Casey, running off with Jill, doing his best to make sure they couldn't follow. He'd screwed everything up. He'd made things so much harder. And yet, Sarah had…

He heard the shuffle of her feet before she even stepped into view, and he had a feeling she'd done it on purpose to alert him of her presence. She stood a few feet away, looking up at him through her eyelashes, her hand on the crate she'd stepped out from behind.

God, she was so gorgeous, even in the shitty fluorescent light.

"Hi," she said quietly.

"Hey there." He gave her a tiny, closed mouth smile that he knew didn't reach his eyes.

"You've got your phone turned off."

He nodded slowly and dug it out of his pocket, holding it up and wiggling it. "Yeah. It's off. You found me anyways."

Sarah's eyebrows rose. "Am I who you were trying to avoid?" She looked like she might take a step back, offer to leave him alone with his thoughts, but he didn't want her to go now that she was here so he quickly shook his head.

"No. Just everything in general. This wasn't the best day."

"I guess not," she said, her voice still quiet.

Sarah walked closer and eyed the crate he sat on. "How'd you get up there?"

"I jumped." He shrugged. "Perks of being a giant."

"Ah." She paused. "Mind if I join you?"

Chuck shook his head and reached down to help her, but she kicked off the side of the chain link cage and easily landed right next to him. He snorted softly and rolled his eyes, curling his hand back over his knee. "Okay, Jackie Chan."

"Who's she?"

He did a double take. "She? Really?" And then he saw the slight lift at the corner of her mouth and he dropped the look of shock, ducking his head and chuckling softly. "Got me good."

"Come on, Chuck. Jackie Chan? I might not be a wiz at popular culture, but I at least know who Jackie Chan is." She smiled and bumped him with her shoulder. He just shook his head and looked at her for a moment. "Just trying to lighten the mood a little."

Chuck let out a soft huff of amusement and looked away, the light she'd put in his face dimming again.

"Hey." She nudged his leg with a fist. "You've had a shit day, I know. But you don't have to hide from me. I get it if you need to be alone. All you have to do is say it. I know this whole thing was really hard for you."

"Did you already take her in? Is that why you're here? To make sure I'm okay now that my ex-girlfriend is getting thrown in a hole in a ground for the rest of her life?" He wasn't angry at her or Casey. He wasn't angry at Beckman, even. He was just sad. Sad for the potential Jill had had back in their Stanford days. He thought she might be the one to cure cancer someday. He used to tell her that all the time.

And now she was going away for life. A traitor. Someone who'd worked for evil people. Not because she was brainwashed or tricked, but because she chose it for herself.

He was just sad. Depressed, even.

"You gonna give me a lecture about not turning off my phone, especially after I ran away with Jill and left my tracker behind?" he asked when she didn't answer.

Sarah pursed her lips, pressing her hands to the crate on either side of her body and shrugging. "No. You already know that was a mistake. I don't have to tell you that. Anyways, I don't typically give you lectures, do I?"

"You're right. You don't. Sorry."

"S'okay."

They were quiet for a few seconds.

"Chuck, if you need to talk…" She left it at that, and he continued to sit there beside her silently. "Or if you want me to give you some space, that's okay, too. We aren't exactly trying to smother you, here. We just want to protect you."

"I screwed up," he said, nearly cutting her off. She blinked at him as he turned to look at her. "I screwed up big time. My actions put everybody in danger. Repeatedly."

"Casey said he found Jill handcuffed to the steering wheel of one of the Nerd Herders, Chuck." A look came over her face for a moment that he couldn't read. A flash of something in her eyes, the lift of one eyebrow. He wondered if it was a sudden emotion, one she hadn't been expecting. Or was she keeping something from him? On top of the thousands of other things she was keeping from him, of course. He'd never be allowed to forget that she was a spy.

"Pretty sure," she continued, "you were the one who did that. She didn't do it to herself."

He shrugged. "She kinda did. Betraying her country, helping evil bastards try to take over the world, playing me for a stupid sap, using me…" Sarah gave him a look. "But I guess technically I did do it, yes. Physically it was me who locked her in there. So…"

The CIA agent smiled a little at that and then met his gaze. "Your actions put a dangerous person behind bars, Chuck. One of Fulcrum's top scientists is ours. That's huge. Massive."

"But first I let her convince me she cared, and I allowed her to make me think I couldn't trust you guys—"

"That isn't what happened," she interrupted. And this time it was his turn to blink at her. "She used you, Chuck. That isn't your fault. You were the target from the beginning. And you couldn't have known what she really was, what her plans were."

Chuck let out a long breath. "Yeah. I guess.""Look, I know—" She diverted her gaze. "I know you have feelings for her. Feelings that go all the way back to your time at Stanford. Feelings you probably thought you'd buried awhile ago and when she turned up again they all came surging back—"

"Yep, I get it. Thanks."

She looked a little sheepish. "Sorry. My point is, you did the right thing in spite of that."

"It wasn't easy."

"No. Of course it wasn't. You wouldn't be—Chuck, you wouldn't be you if it _was_ easy."

The way she said it, the way she looked at him, made something soft and bright bloom in his chest. The implication of what she said had to be as evident to her as it was to him. And yet she didn't look away from him. She didn't break eye contact for even a moment.

"Sometimes being me means being a total moron. Like Casey always says."

"Casey is an asshole, Chuck." He gave her a wide-eyed look and she shrugged, palms up. "What? It's true. He is." She shook her head and braced her palms on the crate again. "We all do things we wouldn't normally do because of…emotions. They can be dangerous."

 _Is that why you always try to hide from them?_ he thought. And he felt guilty immediately. That wasn't fair. First and foremost, she was an agent with the CIA. She did what she did to keep him safe and to protect the country and the people in it. She consistently went above and beyond where he was concerned.

"I have too many. Emotions, that is," he said.

"You don't." He lowered his chin and gave her a flat look and she giggled through her nose, ducking her head and pushing some escaped hair behind her ear. "Okay, maybe you do. But I wouldn't have you any other way, Chuck. None of us would. Not even Casey, though he would never admit it, even if you held a gun to his head."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, looking at her closely. "Why are you here? Sitting next to me? Trying to make me feel like less of a jackass?"

She looked like she didn't know how to respond to that, at a loss for words.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to come out so…nasty," he said. "You're being kind. When you really don't have to be. Thia isn't in your job description."

"I'm not always by the book, Chuck," she said, shrugging one shoulder, still not looking at him.

"I know. And whenever you aren't, it usually has to do with me. I imagine Casey is accompanying Jill to wherever it is she's going, and you're here instead of with them. Why?"

"One of us had to stay behind and protect you."

"You can do that without having to be _here_."

She huffed and nearly rolled her eyes, obviously checking her slight frustration. "You know I'm doing it to make sure you're okay, Chuck. Why are you even asking?"

"Because. Because I put Jill and my feelings ahead of everything else. Ahead of common sense. Everything that I felt for her in college—those quiet moments we spent together walking through the campus at one in the morning, the times I thought she was _the_ girl for me—it all came back like a punch to the gut when I saw her again. How sick in the heart I was when she betrayed me, when I lost her. How it took me out for…crap, man…for _years_. How I didn't stop thinking about her all of that time until—" He lifted his gaze to Sarah's. He knew she had an idea of what he was about to say. _Until I met you._

He looked away again and let out a long breath. "Seeing her again brought back how easy it was being with her. And with all of the bullshit that the Intersect has pumped into my existence, the lying and the cover stories and the guns and bad guys…just straight up bullshit that I have to deal with everyday…" He sighed. "She was real. She made me think about how things were then. Before the Intersect. And I lost my footing. I was weak."

"It isn't weakness to long for a time when you were happy, Chuck. It's…human."

Something in her eyes made him want to reach out and touch her hand. Maybe she was caught up in a memory, reminiscing. What place was she the most happy? When? Did she have a time she sometimes went back to in her mind, a time she longed for? Maybe her childhood? Before she joined the CIA? He wanted to know so bad suddenly that he almost let himself ask. But he clamped his lips together, furrowed his brow, and looked down at his lap instead.

"She isn't the girl for you."

Chuck slowly turned his head and stared. She was trying to look at him steadily, but she was faltering a bit. Something about all of this was affecting her, and he didn't know if it was something in her own head, or if it had something to do with him. Whatever it was, she was doing her best to hide it from him.

"I know she isn't. Even besides the whole using-me-to-help-an-evil-organization crap, and the fact that she's going to be in prison for the rest of her life. She wasn't the girl for me in college, and she isn't the girl for me now." He took a deep breath, and decided to take the plunge. "I just wonder…if the girl who _is_ for me will ever actually be…for me." He let out a frustrated breath. "That sounded right in my head," he mumbled.

Flustered, she folded her hands in her lap, refusing to look at him, her voice oh so quiet. "Chuck, we'll get the Intersect out of your head and then—then you'll be free to find her, wherever she is."

Chuck looked at her long and hard. "Sarah, we both know exactly whom I was referring to."

That mask slid over her face, and he knew he'd failed again. He'd run right into that brick wall once more, just like he always did. _Damn it._ Disheartened, he looked away.

"Chuck." He heard her swallow. "I can't—""I know," he interrupted. He wasn't going to make her suffer through some sort of explanation. And his hand unconsciously landed on hers, squeezing it gently. "You don't have to say anything. I'm just getting that out there…into the cosmos. I guess."

She didn't say anything, looking away.

"What I really should be doing is thanking you. For trusting in me. In spite of how stupid I was. Having faith in me. You've always looked out for me, not just keeping me safe, but really looking out for me, and my best interest. I should have trusted you instead of her from the beginning. And I'm sorry that I didn't. But thank you for continuing to trust me anyways." He curled his hand around her fingers and held on tightly. She eventually responded and squeezed back. "You have no idea how much it means to me."

"You continually prove me right to do so, Chuck Bartowski."

He smiled. "Hey, soooo…" She smirked at him, squinting her eyes curiously. "There's this massive turkey sitting in my oven right now, periodically being braised by a pretty doctor who is probably having a minor panic attack about her almost in-laws coming for dinner."

Sarah giggled, and he didn't let go of her hand. Nor did she let go of his.

"Sarah Walker, I would love it if you'd come with me to a very special Bartowski Thanksgiving. Besides the turkey, there will be gravy made from the—you know, the juices and stuff, and flour, whatever else you mix in there—mashed potatoes, green beans, ummm sweet potatoes and carrots with the brown sugar stuff. You get it." He shrugged as a slow, crooked smile grew on his face.

"I get it," she giggled, beaming. "I would love to come, Chuck Bartowski."

"That's a yes?"

"Absolutely."

"I mean, you really can't let me out of your sight, can you? Beckman would be plenty mad."

She outright laughed this time, and still, she didn't pull away from him. "Aren't we going to be a little late now?"

"Probably a little bit. And I don't look all that presentable."

"Nor do I. But that's easily fixed."

Sarah hopped down from the crate gracefully, her hand finally slipping from his. He mourned the loss of contact, but just smiled and followed suit—a little less gracefully.

"Wait, wait…Are we going to do that whole super spy closet thing?"

She blinked. "What? Super spy closet?"

"Yeah. You press a button and the wall opens and you have a bajillion outfits for every occasion. You punch a couple things into a computer and voila, the perfect outfit goes _bwoop_!" He mimicked it popping out of the closet into his hands.

She snorted and it made him melt a little. "That's not a real thing, Chuck."

He shrugged. "In my head it is."

"I don't doubt." Her smile was warm. "But I've got a few things for you down there in Castle. Some shirts and such. And some things for myself, too. We'll find something."

As they walked through the warehouse to make their way to the Castle entrance, Chuck peered at her out of the corner of his eye. He knew not to expect anything more from her. In a lot of ways, she would always be off limits. She would always be too far out of his reach. She would always be a spy. And he would always be…well, not a spy. For now, he would accept whatever it was she offered. The small moments when they weren't under surveillance.

And he relished the way she slung an arm around his waist as they walked out into the parking lot a few minutes later, pressing her face into his shirt. Part of him thought it wasn't just because Skip and Anna were chatting outside of the Buy More entrance where they could see Chuck and Sarah being coupley. Part of him thought perhaps she craved closeness just like he did.

Maybe he'd never have the normal life with Sarah Walker that he longed for. Maybe the one woman in his life who made him feel more than anyone ever had wasn't meant to be his. Maybe she'd disappear one day and he'd never see her again.

But right now she was here. And he knew she cared. How much, he didn't know, but he did know that it was enough.

She cared enough. For now.

And for the first time since he walked away from Jill Roberts a few hours earlier, he wasn't thinking about the brunette with whom he once upon a time thought he might share the rest of his life.

Instead he was thinking about the blonde leading him across the Buy More parking lot, a woman he probably wouldn't get much more time with. A month. Another year. Maybe two even.

A woman who might one day be nothing but a deep, lasting memory.

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 **A/N:** Hope you enjoyed! 'Til next we meet again.


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